Crossing Thresholds explores the ways artists engage with and push the boundaries of mediums that have longstanding traditions and are deeply rooted in human civilisation. This exhibition presents the works of three artists and their artmaking approaches: Fajrina Razak with batik, a wax-resistant technique of dyeing textiles; Ben Loong with ceramic craft; and Tiffany Loy with the textile production method of weaving.

Through their experimentation with materials and techniques, the artists engage with the rich discourse surrounding established systems of production and knowledge. Their works interrogate thematic concerns such as care, the passage of time and the fluidity of perception; they also reflect on the influence and relevance of traditional craftsmanship on the individual and society in today’s world. Resisting the impulse to be static, the exhibition contemplates how the past speaks into the present, and the interconnections between beings, histories and material culture.

In Conversation with the Artists

In this interview, Ge Xiaocong, Visual Arts Programmer at Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay, sits down with artists Fajrina Razak, Ben Loong and Tiffany Loy in conversation about Crossing Thresholds, their new exhibition at Jendela (Visual Arts Space).

Ge Xiaocong (GX): 'Crossing Thresholds' is a group exhibition that presents your works in the Jendela space alongside each other. What perspective does each your practices bring to this narrative?

Fajrina Razak (FR): I see the three of us artists as culture-bearers of the craft traditions that we practice. I think the exhibition is a testament that traditional art forms can still persist, although the future of craft tradition can be uncertain.

In the case of batik, there are only a handful of batik art practitioners in Singapore, putting batik at risk of becoming obsolete here. And I wonder who in the younger generation will be interested in taking up this craft. As a craft that is considered embodied knowledge, I believe the proper batik-making techniques can only be passed on through tutelage and careful observations by the protégé. To my knowledge, batik is not offered as a module in the curriculum of our arts education institutions.

I am not worried about this sunset trade dying out in Singapore, since there are larger, industrial scale batik makers in neighbouring countries like Indonesia and Malaysia. What concerns me more is that our contemporary visual culture may be compromised in a bid for quicker, fast-paced production, leaving the traditional aspects of the craft in limbo. Craft traditions should not be forced to keep up with advanced technology.

Ben Loong (BL): My practice in this exhibition brings a perspective that is grounded in material memory—how clay, through processes of moulding, firing and cracking, records the forces that shape it. While Fajrina’s batik works and Tiffany’s woven pieces highlight the fluidity and structure of textiles, my ceramics introduce a different kind of tactility—one that captures the tension between fragility and resilience. The cracks and imperfections in my ceramic works function as time signatures, revealing the durational aspect of their making.

Just like batik and weaving require a deep engagement with process and material response, ceramics also demand an understanding of how the material shifts and settles over time. This creates a dialogue within Crossing Thresholds about material transformation across different disciplines, encouraging viewers to see the parallels between textiles, clay and the human touch embedded in both.

Tiffany Loy (TL): While textile-based works tend to be associated with heritage, histories and craft, I was keen on presenting my woven works as visual experiences rather than physical artefacts. Titled Volatile Impressions and Colour Tension, the two series induce shifting perceptions of colour and form, with their extreme fine lines and almost moiré appearances. The focus lies in our reading of the works rather than the works in their physical selves.

GX: How do the methods and processes surrounding each of your chosen mediums and artmaking techniques contribute to the development of the works’ concepts?

FR: Batik itself is one of the mediums used in rituals, traditions and day-to-day life in the Nusantara. On certain occasions, we use batik as a cradle for newborns and as a shroud to cover the deceased. My mother keeps some traditional kain batik lepas (unhemmed batik) that were passed to her by my aunts and late grandmother to use in emergencies such as funerals. As morbid as it sounds, these batik fabrics are reminders of life and death to me. The spirituality of the people of Nusantara are reliant on its traditions (in this case it is present in my work with the craft of batik) and our tanah air (meaning homeland).

Traditions and tanah air are not just mediums, materials or entities that gave inspiration to my work—they are more like my kins. As such, I feel a responsibility to care for them and relate to them as both non-human and more-than-human collaborators in my artistic practice and personal life. My practice with batik has now spanned over a decade, and through this medium, I’ve developed a deeper knowledge of the Nusantara region, both through studio work and research.

BL: My approach to the study of primordial landscapes and processes is rooted in my fascination with how materials behave over time—how they crack, erode and transform through natural forces. Clay has an intrinsic connection to primordial landscapes, as it originates from the earth and carries traces of its geological past. By working with ceramics, I engage with this deep material history while also imposing my own interventions through process and form.

Balancing control and natural transformation are key parts of my practice. While I shape and manipulate the clay, there are always elements that resist control—shrinkage, warping and cracks that form unpredictably during drying or firing. Rather than seeing these as flaws, I embrace them as time signatures, markers of the material’s response to stress and change.

In many ways, my role is to guide rather than dictate. I set up conditions that encourage certain transformations—whether through layering, carving, or allowing the kiln’s heat to introduce its own variables. This interplay between intention and natural forces mirrors the way landscapes evolve; shaped by both external pressures and their own internal properties. By embracing this dynamic, my work becomes a record of material history—one that captures both human intervention and the raw, elemental qualities of clay itself.

TL: Beyond the physical interlacing of yarn, I see weaving more broadly as the logic that holds these structures together. This logic has no definite form and can manifest in different ways; it can be planar, or three-dimensional, solid, or porous. Even though the weaving loom tends to produce planar surfaces, the resulting woven material can be skewed, stretched, twisted, and draped into new forms when occupying a space. While conceptualising ideas for this exhibition, I considered how the placement of each piece within the space might induce a quiet and contemplative experience for visitors to work around, step closer, and observe the shifting colours. It is important to me that visitors could observe the works from varying vantage points, and while moving, in order to catch changes in their own perceptions.

GX: In 'resisting as sketches as rituals of healing' and 'ways of repair / cara-cara pulih', Fajrina, you used both synthetic and natural dyes, alongside harsh chemicals and traditional wax. How do you navigate the dichotomy between these materials, particularly given the potentially divisive debates in dialogues surrounding cultural art forms?

FR: Prior to using natural dyes in my practice, I use synthetic dyes as it is much more available. Along with the synthetic dyes, I explored batik with other over-the-counter chemicals like bleach. And I realised the prolonged use of hard bleach caused tears in the fabric, so I mended the tears by stitching. But I wanted to overstretch the term mending not just in the physical form of art making, but also healing our bodies, individually and collectively. Healing, for me, comes through recalibrating my choice of materials, writing to reclaim lost traditional practices, performing ritual gestures, and researching our histories.

So, I looked up the dyeing histories and found commonly used natural dyes such as indigo. Indigo may be a less invasive material than synthetic dyes, but it has a violent past. During the colonial period in Indonesia, the Dutch East India Company introduced indigo as part of their cultivation system and indigo was one of the crops used to exploit the natives by means of indentured labour and forced planting. The native term for forced planting is tanam paksa. The materials are part of our cultural histories and part of the history is a violent past. We must acknowledge them because colonial legacies are now shape-shifted in different forms. These works seek the question: How do we dismantle the persistent colonial-capitalist practice?

GX: Crack lines are a prominent feature in your ceramic works, which are referred to as "time signatures" that reflect the durational process behind them. How do you plan to further explore this phenomenon in your future research?

BL: It would be interesting to explore the phenomenon of time signatures in the context of painting, and how it can be translated into the visual language of paint. In ceramics, cracks are a result of physical processes, but in painting, I would explore how to mimic or evoke that same sense of material transformation, using paint itself as a medium to capture the passage of time.

I’m also intrigued by the way that paint can be both a process and a surface to be disrupted. It would be interesting to explore how I can simulate the same durational process I observe in ceramics—allowing cracks to form, surfaces to shift and colours to age in unexpected ways. This exploration would move beyond the static nature of painting, inviting the viewer to consider how the work evolves and transforms over time, much like the natural world or the passage of memory itself.

Ultimately, my research continues to revolve around the theme of material memory. These fractures tell a story of tension, resilience and impermanence, much like the landscapes and structures we inhabit. By deepening my understanding of this process, I hope to uncover new ways of using ceramics to capture the passage of time in a tangible, visual form.

GX: Weaving has undergone a revolutionary shift with the advent of industrialisation, marking one of the first times in history when the contrast between manual craft and machines became evident. You’ve intentionally chosen to work with an analogue loom. How would you position your approach within the historical and evolving traditions of weaving?

TL: In the context of my practice, the type of loom and technique used is less important than the intent of the finished piece, and how I want it to be experienced by the viewer. Perhaps that's why I would consider my approach art rather than craft. While I do conduct technical research and expand my range of tools and techniques, it is for the purpose of manifesting my concept, rather than an end in itself. Presenting my work as experiences in art, I hope to show broader audiences that fibre as a medium is equally versatile as any other fine art medium and does not necessarily have to be tied to specific themes of craft and heritage only. 

Crossing Thresholds was on view at Jendela (Visual Arts Space) from 16 Jan – 11 May 2025.